Cray's adventures
by SrgDark
Summary: These will be mostly short stories pertaining my rp character Craywin and his adventures. Some of the arcs are pure background stuff, others cover the rp plots that he's lived though. The stories vary in content, in that some are serious, some not so much. Any roleplay characters that belong to other folk I'll note in the author's notes.
1. Into arc - Part I

**Here it is, the first chapter of the introductory arc. I'll get around to posting other things on a regular basis. Do note, most of them are short in content, snippets of a larger whole, as I mostly wrote them for forums, where I did not want to drown people in walls of text. Still, there are some that are bigger than others, I'll get to 'em eventually. Also, quality improves as the stories progress.**

**Craywin Lichtstrahl is my rp character in Guild Wars 2, on Piken Square server. A thirty year old mercenary who had seen plenty, but as he lacks any other notable skills to make a living out of and more importantly, had gotten used to his life as a mercenary, he remains in this often dangerous line of work. Enjoy the stories, rate an comment, if you'd like.**

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**Prowling the wild**

It was supposed to be a simple job. Seraph that hired him said so herself, telling him exactly what it is that he must bring back. Foolishly, he believed her. After all, how often did he get jobs from these lawful types?

Suppressing a sigh, he edged a bit closer to the encampment. It took him a day and a half of tracking, but he caught up with the thieves near the border of Kessex Hills. It was not hard to find their trail, since he took off after them merely half an hour after the theft happened. Following the trail over the countryside was easy enough. What would come next might be a bit of a problem.

In the grove below the hill overgrown with dense grass he was currently hidden in, four men sat around the fire, merrily chatting away. While he had no qualms about getting rid of several bandits such as themselves, he was a bit worried by the prospect of facing an elementalist. The woman joined them a little while ago, taking the pouch with the item and sitting away from the group, in the base of one of the largest trees. From there, she had a clean view of the camp, as well as two of his three possible approach points.

She wore a brown cape over a tight, sleeveless one piece red dress the fit her quite well in his opinion. Her allure aside, he had to give her credit for wearing proper traveling boots instead of those fancy things on high heels most of the pretty women he met wear. Her staff lay by her side, made of polished white wood that fit rather well with her pale complexion.

Cray cursed under breath and moved away, going the long way around till he was amongst the trees in the grove. The big tree to the left was where she was sitting, which meant she could not see him, but same went for him.

He climbed one of the trees to his right. The trees grew close, their branches entwining, which made it easy for him to cross to the next one with ease, silent as a ghost. The light breeze blew in his face, bringing him the scent of the camp, of the unwashed bodies from the four outlaws and the sweet scent of perfume from her. He took his bow and five arrows, embedding them in the branch he was crouching on, but he made no move afterwards, waiting till they all fell asleep.

To their credit, they posted a sentry on her insistence. He waited a while longer till he was sure they were all asleep. By his reckoning, it was near midnight when he started his job.

He took the sentry first. With soundless grace, he plucked one of the arrows, nocked it and pulled the string back. He released as the man turned his back to him. The arrow struck him in the back of his head and he slumped forward from the place he was sitting, as if asleep.

He aimed an arrow at the woman, but then he decided to take the other three first. Next two arrows found their marks with deadly accuracy, men dying in their sleep without as much as a whimper.

Fourth one woke up and bleary eyed looked around the camp. Craywin didn´t know if he had seen the arrow protruding from the back of the sentry´s head or the dark pools that gathered around the forms of two of his closer companions, but when he opened his mouth to scream an arrow struck home. He let out a gurgled sound as he fell down, blood gushing, arrow sticking out his mouth.

_Lucky..._ thought Craywin to himself, drawing the string to his ear, his aim trained at the woman. He always found himself to be luckier than most people, but his luck mostly extended to the life threatening situations. Anything else was beyond its scope. But when he released it a second later, his arrow was thrown off course, biting hard into the bark of the tree beside his head.

Her eyes were open, lips curled in a vicious smile.

˝Aw... crap...˝ he muttered just as a gust of flame erupted in his general direction.

Without thinking, he leapt back from the tree, landing awkwardly in a roll below. Discarding his bow, he ran left, another gust of flames engulfing the place he stood at just a moment ago. He slipped away into the shadows of the trees, watching for any sign of movement from her as he unbuckled his sword belt and let it down. He did the same for his cape, which was mostly burnt to a crisp.

It would have to be a neat knife slice. Both of his knives were poisoned, their blades coated in dark moth venom which induces temporary or long term paralysis, depending on how much of it is applied on the victim. Just nicking someone was enough to make them pass out and later wake up stiff as a fish in a barrel. He drew the first one, holding it reversed with the edge out.

The light breeze from before turned into violent gale, but he still could not see her. But he could hear her laugh above the noise, which was enough for him. The night was alight with flames dancing from the tree to tree, consuming the grove with alarming speed, but that only deepened the shadows in which he hid. Guiding himself by the last place he heard the laughter from, he swiftly moved from shadow to shadow till he was able to see her.

She still stood by the remains of the campfire, a trail of fire dancing around her in lazy circle. Finally, he realized what was that she was doing by using the gale. The fire spread out all around in a controlled circle, consuming what little cover he had. Already was the place he left his sword drenched in bright flame.

By his reckoning, she was just five steps from him. Despite the heat and the smoke, he grinned. She made this little venture enjoyable. He drew the remaining knife, flicking the other one far to his right, where it hit the tree with a resounding _thud._ The flickering flame that trailed around her immediately flew at the source of the sound.

At the same moment, he was already three steps ahead. She saw him for the first time that evening, swinging her staff at his head. Craywin ducked under it, rolling by her as he felt the earth behind him erupt on her command. That threw him off balance and she was able to move out of the way in time. As he steadied himself, flicking the knife at her she was already making another earth blast at him.

He raised his arms in defense, taking the brunt of the shattered earth force in that way. It threw him on his back, knocking the wind out of him. Still, he knew he had won. After all, she lay flat out on her face as well.

Craywin stood up with a painful grunt, feeling his right arm. He was pretty sure it was broken, or at least fractured. He´d have to seek out a water elementalist to take a look at it later. With the adrenaline from the fight fading, all the nicks and bruises he got for his effort here were starting to hurt.

Walking over to her prone form, he took the small pouch from her belt, checking it contents. It was indeed what he was sent to retrieve. He attached the pouch to his own belt, looking around. The flames have all but surrounded them, now finally burning out of control.

Cray sighed, bending over and picking up her staff first, using the loop she had to have it hang over his back. Then he picked her up, throwing her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. With one last look at the campsite, he took off in a light run, away from the grove set ablaze and back towards the big city in the distance.

After all, the Seraph had paid him to take care of four thieves and to bring back what they stole. She never said anything about a fifth person. Besides, the least he could do was get this woman to safety after she gave him such a good fight.


	2. Intro arc - Part II

**Here´s the second one. Sort of an ending to the odd little Craywins prologue. Crank is a background character and will most likely remain so.**

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**Old friends**

In a cozy circular room, surrounded by bookcases embedded in the walls filled to brim with all manner of scrolls, books, tools and potions, two figures sat at the table, one tall and one short. Their faces were lit by the white light coming from an ornate old lantern hanging from the high ceiling and by the last rays of the setting sun, coming through the only window in the room.

˝So..?˝ the asura sitting by the table asked, his right eye slightly twitching in frustration. He wore a dark blue robe, with a worn scarlet sash across his waist. Like the man sitting across him, he too had a silver brooch made in the likeness of the downward pointed sword on his person. It was attached to the aforementioned sash. ˝Would you kindly tell me what are you doing here? Or rather more importantly, who is this woman and why is she paralyzed?˝

He pointed at the woman in one piece red dress that was laid down on his couch. She was awake, her eyes darting around the room in fright, her breath coming in at an uneven rate. Asura did not begrudge her for being afraid. After all, she was stuck in a small room with two strangers, one of which he suspected is responsible for her current condition.

˝Well...˝ Cray begun, helping himself to a cookie from the small bowl between himself and the visibly irritated asura. ˝... I happened to pick her up on my last job. I couldn´t just leave her in the middle of a blazing inferno. Which, incidentally, she started.˝

˝That hardly answers my question you dolt!˝ asura cried out, massaging his temple.

Craywin chuckled, reaching for another cookie. Noticing that, asura took a small device he kept under the table, a small electric charged prod. With it, he jolted the man before he could take another one of the cookies.

Yelping, Cray pulled his hand back. ˝You´re cranky today, aren´t you Crank?˝

He observed as asura twitch visibly at the joke. With a click, prod prolonged itself long enough to jolt him again. Raising his hands, he backed away from the device. ˝Alright, alright! Calm down.˝

˝Just... don´t use her joke. Its not...˝ asura shook his head, putting the prod away. There was a trace of old sadness in the voice, to which Cray felt a pang of guilt bite at this heart. He should not have said that.

˝You´re acting out of character.˝ Cray noted, flexing his right arm a bit. He helped himself to a couple of healing potions when he´d arrived in Crank´s lab, so his fractured arm mended amiably, as have all those cuts and bruises he had.

˝Bah! As if you´d notice something like that.˝ Crank shot back, back to normal himself again. He turned his eyes to the elementalist that was still unmoving on his couch. ˝So, how much of that moth poison did you use? And yet again, why bring her to me?˝

Craywin glanced at the paralyzed elementalist. She was now quitely listening, attentive as an eager pupil before his master. There was not much else she could do. ˝I´d say that your formula needs a bit more work. It was only as slight gash across her thigh and she is still out of it.˝

˝Interesting...˝ murmured Crank, writing something down, already calculating what he could have gone overboard with in the formula. Still, there was another unanswered question there. ˝Why´d you bring her here?˝ He asked, but then it dawned upon him. ˝How did you menage to bring her into the city without being arrested for kidnapping or worse?˝

Cray looked at him as if he had asked a stupid question. Knowing the man, Crank could understand. Ever since he met him, the human always had a way of finding a path to almost anywhere.

˝That was easy.˝ Cray remarked, pleased with himself. ˝A couple of Seraph I know from the tavern I go to were standing guard, so they let me through. They didn´t want to check what was stuffed into a big potato sack I carried over my shoulder.˝

Ignoring the facepalm Crank made and the wide eyed look the woman gave him, he continued. ˝Look, I know you are trying to find more people to help you out with your little treasure hunt project, so I thought I should bring her straight here, seeing as I did not have any antidotes on me. Besides, she does owe me her life now, I figured she might be willing to hear you out if it means getting back the ability to move again.˝

˝Cray... that is some roundabout way of thinking there. Your brain must´ve been wired back wrong after that tumble down the cliff you took while we were dealing with that drake. Mind you, I am still amazed you survived that!˝ Crank said as he slid down from his seat, walking out of the room.

˝Just lucky I guess...˝ muttered Cray as he recalled the event. Bloody and painful it was. Not something he´d be up for repeating anytime soon. A few minutes passed in silence before the asura came back with a small vial.

˝Now look here bookah, I know you must be quite frustrated with that buffoon of a man, but you can burn him to a crisp somewhere away from my house, is that clear?˝ he warned the woman, enciting a small, barely perceptible nod from her. While he sipped the antidote to her lips, he remarked to Cray. ˝You are paying for those potions you drank.˝

Finding it odd that there was no reply from the insufferable scout, he looked over his shoulder. The window was open and Craywin was nowhere in sight.

˝An odd man.˝ the woman remarked with an lovely melodic voice, stretching her sore limbs. Crank turned to look at her cautiously, for once refraining from chipping in with a comment. She flashed him a smile. ˝You were talking about a job?˝

All the while, Cray rushed over the rooftops of the Divinity´s Reach. Crank knew that he was broke and was most likely going to rope him in that little project of his to pay off those potions he drank today, as well as those from the last week. And the week before... As he had no desire to go on some fools errand, he bolted the moment Crank remarked on the payment. He did have a job. He just needed to turn it in and then he´d have enough money to pay off some of his debts.

As long as he did not drop by a tavern to celebrate a job well done.


	3. Intro arc - Part III

**Letter**

The passage through the asura gate always unsettled him. He was told several times that there is nothing to be afraid of, but in the end he remained distrustful of a contraption that had the power to make him go from one place to the next in an instant. Call him old-fashioned, but he preferred to walk the distance.

Still, his business led through the swirling and unstable surface, so he took a deep breath and stepped through.

The fresh air of Divinity´s Reach he left behind, the wet, dense air full of all kinds of smells hitting him in the next instant. The smell of salt and sea was just an afterthought to it. He felt no refreshing breeze here, but heavy, warm air he had learned to hate whenever he visited Arch. Still, he had a fondness for this place, one he now showed with a fleeting smile as he moved down the bustling street, watching his surroundings with a keen eye. It has been only a couple of months, but in his eyes this place had not change in the slightest. That was fine by him.

Craywin paused under the welcome shade one of the bigger makeshift buildings gave off, checking his bow. It was a worn thing, years old, but with diligent care he made sure it remained good and trustworthy. Luckily for him, he didn´t bring it to that job, taking instead that cheap one he picked up after one of the brawls in his favorite tavern. He ran his fingers at the length of the polished, well-crafted yew, remembering how every deeper scratch came to be.

He slung the bow on his back, right next to the quiver, before making his way down to the square. The fountain and the lion were still the same, big, shiny and speckled with sea gull droppings. It didn't seem to register with the locals that it should be cleaned up from time to time.

The sword on his belt was something he bought with coin he´d earned two days before, when he turned in that job after leaving Crank and that lass to their business. The Seraph sergeant who paid him was in good spirits, unlike the first time he met her. He supposed that something good happened recently to put her in such a mood. It was none of his business though, so he took the coin and left.

The sword was a good piece, a stark contrast to the worthless piece of sharpened iron he left to the inferno on that night. At the price he gave for it, it better be! The rest of it he used to pay back his debt to Crank and the barkeep. In the end, he did not spend it on drinks as he initially planned.

Earlier today, he made his way to the shabby old apartment in Reach he sometimes slept in, usually when he had enough money to actually pay the rent and had found a letter in the little mailbox addressed to him, but without any note of who wrote it on the outside.

Curious, he took it before entering his place, entertaining the thought that it might be from Sonja or the kids, which drew a faint smile on his face as he ripped the letter open. He hadn't visited them in years though, which made him feel horribly guilty, even more than usual when it came to them.

His smile was replaced by a frown when he read the letter. ˝The hell..?˝

He knew only one person that would send such a letter, without any second thoughts, filled to brim with rhymes. With a sigh, he went to the bed to grab at least a few hours of sleep before departing, already calculating who he´d have to call in for favors to get a clearance to pass through that gate.

And now he was here, in Lion´s Arch, the place many called the crossroads of the world. A lofty title, for the shipwreck of the city in which all manner of folk scrounged up for the living under the watchful eye of the ever uncaring Lionsguard.

˝Raima, this better be worth it...˝ he muttered under breath, doing his best to avoid some charr that went by, carrying boxes, but that sent him brushing off against another human.

Craywin turned to apologize, but the man didn´t seem to register him, merely walking past, a determined, searching look in his eyes as he peered at the crowd passing by him. It was a look of a man with purpose, one that Cray immediately liked. The man disappeared into the crowd.

Cray smiled, walking on.

There was always something interesting in Lion´s Arch.


	4. Into arc - Part IV

**With this, ends the intro arc, the main characters introduced. Raima, as it were, was written partially by myself and partially by the player of the character, the Raima's rhymes were beyond me at the time. Both Raima and the charr are my friend's creations.**

**Either way, with the end of this introductory arc, I'll get around to posting something else soonish.**

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**Raima**

Craywin entered the house, having to bend down to reach the low-set door handle. Asuran height, he reminded himself. The door was properly sized, but the handle was adjusted to the preferences of a smaller race.

He ducked under the doorframe, pushing aside a curtain to reddish darkness. A strong smell of herbs surrounded him, the assault on his nostrils almost instantly dissipating any lingering thoughts of what had happened in that alleyway. He rubbed his nose, trying not to sneeze.

The room itself was small, and not very Asuran in nature. The walls, where they were visible, seemed raw and tan not unlike the mud-houses seen in Elona. They, and the glassless windows in them, were mostly hidden by draperies. The only unobstructed source of light seemed to be the half-burned embers glowering in a small stone fireplace on the right side of the room. He blinked, trying to make his eyes adjust to the light faster.

"Hello, my friend. You're here, in the end." The Asura grinned up at him.

"Raima."

She smiled, pattering towards him in her strange Asuran walk. "Come in, come on. I've put on the pot. The tea is done, and it's still hot."

Without waiting for an answer, she ambled over to the fireplace, unhooking the blackened tea kettle with a poker, and poured two cups of steaming tea. The herbal smell doubled, almost clouding his senses for an instant. He accepted the small cup, holding it carefully in both hands.

It really was hot. His skin burned where the cheap pottery touched it. He shifted it carefully until he was only holding it with his fingertips.

"What is it?"

"I said so. Tea. Good for you. Herbs and fruits and spices, too."

She gestured towards the cup with the poker. "Don't think. Drink."

"I did not know you had returned to Lion's Arch." He sipped gingerly. It scalded his lips, as he had expected. He winced.

"I had. It was a long march."

He chuckled at her matching his rhyme. "Hardly. It is just one gate from Rata Sum, isn't it?"

"The man knows nothing, yet he talks." The Asuran chuckled. "Raima doesn't like gates. Raima walks."

"All the way from Rata Sum? That is a long walk."

"Rata Sum, did I say? More than two places in the world, friend Cray."

"All right, all right." He put down the cup carefully on the thick carpet and sat himself down next to it, sitting cross-legged. "Suit yourself. But next time you send me an urgent letter of summoning, maybe you could be there when I arrive?"

The Asura chuckled, waving her teacup around. Sitting on the carpet, she was almost at eye-height with him.

"Maybe you thought you came to see me. But maybe you just went where you needed to be."

"What?" He frowned. Sometimes, he believed this particular Asura was more than a few cups short of a full tea set - even more than your average Asura, anyway. Eying the cup, he wondered just what kind of herbs she used. The smell was making him itch a little, and he started to worry it was the tea itself.

"Cups, you think. I don't have many. So be careful when you drink. Don't break any."

He smiled, unable to hold in a laugh. Then he became serious again. "Where were you then, this morning?"

"With me."

The deep, growling voice from behind him made Cray jump up, knocking over the rest of his tea. He swirled around to see a set of white teeth gleaming in the shadow beside the curtain.

Big teeth. Charr teeth.

Behind him, the Asura grinned, rubbing her hands.

"Found her on my evening walk. Now... time for business. Let's talk."


	5. Intermission - Old Dream

**A short pause between arcs, a flash of Cray's time in the Arch, as well as a glimpse of his past.**

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**Old dream**

_Flame licked against the ruined and scorched pillar he was hiding behind, heating it to the point it started to melt. A giant drake, covered in black scales and spike spines on top of his back, did not relent in his pursuit. It's fire blazed without pause. _

_He counted seconds till his cover was no more, forcing him to jump aside as the fiery tide passed over it, leaving him open to the reptilian creature. It turned its head, red eyes peering at him with predatory guile. He shot an arrow in one of the eyes, running left, away from the cliff side. It roared in pain, so deafening that he rocks around it cracked. Then it leashed out with its massive tail, spikes at the end narrowly missing his legs, but one of them caught his bow, slung over his back. _

_The next moment he flew, twisting in the air like some circus athlete before smashing in the rocks on the cliff edge. Something cracked and he felt a sting of unbearable pain on the right side of his chest as he tumbled off the edge. He suppressed a scream, merely grunting in pain as he grabbed hold of some vines, dangling off the edge of the cliff._

_The beast turned away from him, lumbering towards his unconscious companions, a sylvari girl and a norn warrior. They both lay unmoving, on the other side of the clearing. He hoped they were okay. _

_With an effort, he got up, reaching for his bow. Then he realized that it was broken in several pieces, just as he drew his bloody hand back. A glance down revealed that a piece of it was sticking out of side of his lower chest, ran through his back. At that moment, he did not care for it. He took his long, poisoned dagger out and rushed over to the beast, adrenaline keeping him wholly alive and unfazed by the pain he should be feeling. _

_By the edge of his sight, he saw Crank, his face bloody and his left arm dangling uselessly to the side. The asura lifted up the norn's hand cannon, setting it down on the stone before him and fired, hitting the beast square in the lower jaw, spraying bits of bone, teeth and meat all over the clearing. It was the distraction he needed._

_He jumped on the back of the enormous drake, holding himself steady on one of its horns. The dagger plunged down, through the already empty eye socket, into the brain of the creature. It trashed, letting of half-strangled noises as blood and fire spurted from its ruined mouth. He fell off, tumbling down and grunting in pain, he too bleeding like a gutted fish. Still, he grinned, giving Crank thumbs up._

_Then something hit him and he flew again, cliff meeting him head on. He crashed, rolled and then fell, grasping the air for anything that would save him. The cliff sped past him, the rumbling water below rushing to meet him. _

_It hit him hard, like a raging bull._

Craywin awoke from his dream with a jolt, dagger in hand. He blinked, confused for a moment before shaking his head slowly and setting the dagger down.

"Just a dream..." he muttered, looking around the dimly lit room. He pondered the meaning of the dream, before dismissing the notion. It was in the past. "Stupid old memory..."

He stood up, considering what to do. Raima had called him again, after that first meeting with her and her... guest. Ashen, the charr was called. Wounded and still recovering, Raima had patched her up.

She was not home when he arrived, note plastered on the door that she is out to meet up with someone. He supposed that his business with her wasn't all that hurried then, if she had time to meet up with someone else instead of waiting for him. Ashen was not around either.

Without much to do, he returned the dagger to its sheath, grabbing his swordbelt and going out; his cloak, bow and quiver left hanging on the wall in the house.

It was night, torches lit to keep the main streets relatively safe to walk in this time of day. He buckled the swordbelt over his chest, so that the sword would be pulled over his shoulder. Less of a chance he'd accidentally bump into something with it that way. Distractions are ill advised if you're trying to stay invisible, after all.

Craywin keep to the shadows, moving unseen by any passerby, merely looking around the city and its dark streets for anything that might catch his interest. For one, it felt quite peaceful, something he had hard time connecting with the Lion's Arch. This was a city that can draw you in and never let you go easily, especially at night. You go out, wandering in one of the odd alleyways and disappear into the night.

It happened before. He made it happen on occasions, depending on the job.

Still, this night was oddly quiet, not much happening. A sylvari rushed by, disappearing in one of the alleyways.

He was going the other way when he heard the crash of stone against flesh. It was a sound easy to remember. He paused and looked at the source of it, the dark alleyway into which that sylvari disappeared to.

He paused, contemplating his options. Then he too disappeared into the thick darkness of the alleyway by him, unseen and quiet, like almost like a ghost. It led behind the buildings, to the place where he just heard the noise at.

Craywin regarded the place curiously from his hiding spot as others came rushing forward, telltale signs of elementalist magic all obvious in the street. Whoever it was, the deed was done swiftly and without mercy.

The broken body of a sylvari was still oozing sap from where it was twisted at odd angles into the ground.


	6. Slavers arc - Part I

**Right, onto the first proper story arc. It's still happening before the game's launch.**

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**Blood and gutters I**

Lion's Arch was always teeming with all kinds of people. On the surface it was a well managed system, but Cray knew what lies underneath it. The stench of death only gets stronger as you delve deeper down and before long you end up wading through the gutters, up to your knees in blood and dirt. Hypothetical blood, but before long, there will be blood spilled.

That is just how things went in this shipwreck of a city. Pirates control it, every aspect of it and if someone is breaking their laws it just means that they're not getting a cut.

His mind wondered to the sylvari girl he found dead all those days ago. Killed and left behind a bloody, broken wreck in a side alley. There was no trace of the killer and while he found some clues, such as the obvious fact that it was an elementalist that was the murderer, he did not feel the inclination to follow up. It wasn't his job to hunt down every murderer out there or half of Arch would require killing.

But now he faced a similar dilemma, standing in an old shabby warehouse, in one of the nastier districts of the shipwreck city. Within the big wooden container of sorts he had opened, huddled against the far side were young human women. _No... Only young girls. Barely even that._

Their malnourished, abused bodies had a stench of fear and death about them, sticking to what little clothes they had on them. Faces drawn and pale, their eyes cast down in fear of him, a man in leather jerkin, brandishing a sword before them. He tightened the grip on his bloody sword, crimson liquid slowly dripping on the stone floor. Jerkin was bloodied too, his shirt's right sleeve crimson up to elbow. Speck of it got to his face, trailing down his cheek like a glistening red tear.

None of the blood was his own.

Craywin's frown deepened as he took in the sight, his eyes hard and cold. He could just call the guards and tell them the truth. They were on a job, looking for a missing person and have found that not only that girl was kidnapped over the last few weeks, but others too. Following a faint trail, they had managed to pick up rumors about a slave ring, which was confirmed by a corrupt Lionguard yesterday and now here they are.

Almost all kidnappers were killed off now, if this place was their hideout. He presumed they'd get a pat on the back, 'job well done' speech from some guard captain and their paycheck. It was a good, simple outcome of tonight's venture.

Someone was still whimpering nearby, breaths coming in uneven intervals. There was a grunt from a different source and a short, shrill scream that ended up in gurgles. Heavy footsteps sounded on the rotten wooden floor planks, creaking ominously under the charr.

"How long are you going to stand there?" the reprimand shook him out of his thoughts.

Craywin looked to his charr companion as she approached, wiping the blood off her paws, her tail flicking in obvious annoyance. He never fully came to understand her reasons for following him, but right now, he appreciated her company nonetheless. She shot him another one of her looks.

"The job is done, is it not? Why are you still standing there like a scarecrow? "

"I..." he glanced back at the freed prisoners.

"There is one left alive." she noted, pushing him aside so that she can talk with the remaining humans. She had no love for them, but did her part despite that.

"Ashen, get them out of here, to the guards." there was a steel in his voice now, something that almost brought a smirk to her face. Almost.

He turned to the girls, who were now paying attention, realizing that they were not in league with their capturers. Craywin could see glimmers of hope, faint but still there, in their eyes. "Follow the charr, she will show you to freedom. The nightmare is over."

How he loathed himself for lying like that. He honestly doubted that any of them will come unscathed from this.

As Ashen took them out, each of them silent as a grave, he turned to the man his companion pointed out earlier, wiping his sword clean of blood and sheathing it in one fluid motion. Instead, he pulled out a long, curved dagger. The dark blade glinted dangerously in the faint light of the wall-lamps.

Craywin crouched next to the man. It was the leader, the one who Ashen broke in the start of their brief fight. He could see where the knee was shattered, bone sticking out of the flesh and the way right arm was loosely hung.

The man whimpered in pain. Or perhaps fear?He did not know, nor did he care. If it were just a kidnapping and then ransoming people, he could take it. But these bastards were planning on selling those girls to gods know who. He had little mercy for criminals that crossed him, but there was no mercy for slavers in his book.

So he rammed the blade down on the broken knee, hard. A wet, crunching sound could be heard. Man screamed, sputtering promises of gold and other things in exchange for his life, kind of thing a desperate man always says to try and avert his fate. Craywin grabbed his head and slammed it against the wooden wall behind, silencing his voice. Man was quivering wreck, but he knew when to shut up. Stench of blood and piss grew in the silence that followed, lasting mere moments to one man and hours to the other.

"Tell me who hired you and where are the others." Craywin's voice was cold and unforgiving, his eyes gleaming in the half-shadow of the place. The man did not answer at first, glancing at the corpses of his companions strewn around the warehouse instead, as if he still had doubts. Unwilling to let him get distracted, Craywin rammed the dagger again, eliciting another scream. Only then the man spoke, stream of information, more than he needed. Still, he listened to all of it, face set in stone, emotionless and terrifying in the half-shadow of the warehouse.

It didn't take long to find out what he wanted. What followed was short and painless.

Ashen found him outside the warehouse several minutes later, sitting on a crate. Wind was rising up, his coattails swaying slightly, raven black hair falling messily over his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. He was wiping the blood off his dagger, gray eyes distant, but he immediately sprang to his feet when he sensed her presence.

"Come." he invited her, walking past with determination written on his face. "I'll lead the way."


	7. Slavers arc - Part II

**Second part of the Slavers arc, going deeper into the darker sides of Arch. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Blood and gutters II**

Craywin's world was a blurry mass of jittering images, screams and smoke. Laying on his stomach and tasting blood in his mouth, he closed his eyes, hoping that the ringing in his ears will go away. Spitting out blood, he pulled himself up with a pained grunt, noticing that his sword-arm wrist was rather painful. Some detached, mostly calm part of his mind told him it was sprained, or maybe broken_. _

But then another explosion shook the solid floor from under his feet again, throwing him down on the wobbling planks of the pier on which he stood. Feeling more blood fill his mouth from where he had bit his tongue, he spat, managing to get himself up on his knees.

He distinctly remembered coming there with Ashen, sneaking in from the top while she remained outside, ready to provide a distraction or backup if needed. What he found inside were dead guards on the upper floors, every one killed with one strike, most of them taken by surprise.

Now half of the place was burning by the looks of it. Craywin reached for his sword, the ringing in his ears finally gone. Then he noticed the broken body of one of the prisoners by him. The girl was maybe fifteen, her once bright blue hair now dyed crimson, sticking to her face, her left arm twisted and broken. Empty blue eyes stared ahead, devoid of life. The girl he had promised to return alive to her parents.

In midst of all the madness, he took a moment to close her eyes. There were several more bodies nearby, scorched and just as broken, each a gruesome sight to behold. _I am sorry. I didn't save you..._

He looked about, blinking as his eyes adjusted._What has..?_

Then he remembered. Someone already beat him to the man responsible for the small slave ring.

An assassin and an elementalist, employed by someone whose name he did not hear, took care of the slavers. The assassin was short, lean man, with short cut black hair and dark brown eyes that could be easily mistaken to be black. He wore light leather armour, over which he wore some sort of cloak, good for hiding, which reminded Cray of the attire his old mentor wore. On the other hand, the elementalist was a huge bald man, all muscle and tattoos, wielding a bladed staff.

When Craywin got up, he realized that he was thrown out of the warehouse, back on the open pier. He could hear growling of a charr from the inside, as well as the mad laughter of a man. When his eyes fell on the assassin, who was waiting few feet away from him, he remembered those last few missing pieces.

The assassin's name was Li. Craywin heard that much when the elementalist killed the last of the slavers. When asked what to do with the caged prisoners, Li told the huge man that he had no need for them, whereupon the elementalist moved his staff in front of the first cage. Craywin got down on the bottom level fast enough, flinging his dagger at the brute, but it was for nothing, because the man didn't even register the blade that sunk into his shoulder.

From below the warehouse, several ice shards, each size of a horse or bigger, struck up. The girls in the first cage were skewered and torn, blood spraying everywhere, dying the ice crimson.

Then Ashen brought down a part of the ceiling on top of them, falling down on top of the elementalist with a vicious war cry. Wood splintering all around them from the magic being thrown about, Craywin rushed at Li, who drew his own blade, an elegant, slightly curved one sided blade.

But before they could fight properly, Li's partner used a spell on a magnitude Craywin has seldom seen. The entirety of the warehouse exploded, spraying burning wood far around, into the bay and among other warehouses, taking any remaining prisoners along with those fighting inside. He found himself taken off his feet by the blast.

_Ah... so that's what had happened..._ Craywin stood up, feeling the pain. He faced the assassin.

"You survived." it was a polite remark, no viciousness or smugness in it.

"I am hard to kill." Craywin replied, gripping the handle of his sword in tranquil fury, ignorant of the raging pain in his wrist.

_I messed up again..._

Li opened his mouth to say something, but Cray had none of it. Rushing straight at him, he flicked a second dagger at the man, who deflected it with ease. Still, he closed in enough to fight.

_Why is it that I never seem to..._

His first strike, a slash from the right side, missed by a small margin, merely drawing blood from the assassin, who managed to step back on time. Cray parried a thrust, kicking out at the man, but was avoided. Li then narrowly ducked under another slash, kicking the legs under Cray, who fell with a pained grunt, hitting his head on the hard wood.

_I can never save everyone, no matter how hard I try, can I, Carys?_

Craywin rolled out of Li's reach, coming up just in time to block a vicious overhead slash. Even then, he got a kick in the mouth for his trouble, which gave the assassin an opportunity to disarm him when he tried to clumsily parry another slash, his wrist not responding properly. His dagger skittered off the dock into the water below.

Still, he managed to dodge the following slash, getting only a cut across his face instead of losing half of his head. There was a flash of intense pain and he found himself cornered, his face alight with agony. That curved blade came about and he had no way of dodging it in time, not as tired and banged up as he was.

_Gah... looks like my luck has finally run out._

Then there was a crackling blast of light, the smell of ozone following it and the assassin was blown off the pier with a surprised and quite startled gasp, much to Craywin's amazement. Someone's strong paw gripped him by the arm, yanking him on his feet.

Ashen looked as bad as he, parts of her fur burnt and a nasty gash across her right forearm. She gave him a stern look, letting go of his arm once she realized that he still had it in him to stand.

"Did..." he managed to say "... did anyone survive?"

"No, nobody survived, human. They prepared that blast beforehand." she replied, ignoring his downcast eyes. "Follow me, we need to go before the guards grab us."

"My name is Craywin. Not human." he told her as they run between the warehouses, avoiding the stream of oncoming guards. Running in a straight line was rather difficult and concentration consuming.

She paused, looking over her shoulder at him. Craywin looked her in the one working eye, stern in the gloom of the night. For a few moments, he questioned her motives, curiosity getting the best of him, but then she turned her back on him and continued on.

"Fine. Keep up then, Craywin."


	8. Slavers arc - Part III

**Finale to the Slavers arc, as it was promised. I suspect that Murky waters arc will follow, after a brief interlude again :D**

* * *

**Blood and gutters III**

Craywin sat cross-legged under an old, twisted oak tree, hidden from any views in the thick shadow. His cloak was folded next to him, a bottle of sake on top of it. Leaning slightly on the hard bark, he peered at the myriad lights of the city below. While it was build without any proper order, in the night those faults are barely noticeable. After all, the Lion´s Arch he gazed upon right now was more akin to a shining gem on the shore of the sea than a shipwreck of a city, its lights visible far on the open sea.

The broken hill where he was right now overlooked a great part of the Lion´s Arch, but he was not there for the view. The light breeze was warm, a welcome thing in the mild cold of the night.

"This place hasn´t changed at all." Craywin broke the silence, shifting his gaze from the city to the neatly crafted stone set near the edge, few feet away from the place he was sitting.

It had been masterfully crafted to resemble a flower pup, which was mostly covered in thin vines and red leaves. Under the leaves, on a place none of the flower passed over, a name was inscribed, only the name and nothing more.

_Carys_

He looked at the stone piece and the name engraved upon it, a memory coming back to him, drawing a small smile on his bandaged face, his left eye glinting with dimmed mirth.

_He was sitting on a bench, pack of cigarettes in his hand. He was waiting for Crank, who had gone off to buy himself something to eat, when she walked up behind him, putting her hands over his shoulders. _

_"I found Cray!" she said in that sing-song voice of hers. _

_Sighing, he looked to his right, ready to lecture her on proper manners in public. The sight of her face so close to his cut of his train of thoughts, her breath tickling his cheek. He immediately sprang back, out of her reach, much to her amusement. _

_"That's not funny." he chided as she sat down next to him, her lips still drawn in a smile. Sylvari merely laughed at his discomfort, mimicking his frown. Craywin shook his head, reaching out and flicking her forehead lightly, remarking with an aloof seriousness. "You wouldn´t want your face to be stuck like that, now would you?"_

_She rubbed the spot momentarily, beaming him another smile. He did not dislike the smiles. She had a pretty face, one perfect for smiling, just like her eyes always did. It had been a while since he had made an acquaintance as cheerful and ever beaming as her. Though, to be honest, he had not met many sylvari over his travels, seeing as they popped out of nowhere over the last two dozen of years. Aside from a few short talks he had with those few sylvari that had ended up in the Lion's Arch pubs by luck or misfortune, he didn't have much interaction with them._

_"Where is our ever cranky friend?" She asked, leaning back on the bench. _

_"Off to get himself something to eat." he replied, pondering whether he really wanted to know why she was here or not. In the end, he guessed he´ll be rid of her sooner if he just asked. "Why?"_

_"I was thinking..." she started, for a moment actually sounding serious. He kept his poker face up, expecting her to say something silly as always, lighting a cigarette while waiting for her to finish. The whole last month spent working with her, as he and Crank weren't enough for the job, made him somewhat prepared for her. But nothing could have prepared him for her declaration. "Let´s form a guild!" _

_His poker face fell apart brilliantly when she suggested that, the cigarette falling from his open mouth. Half strangled noise of surprise was the best he could manage. _

_"It´s going to be great! Crank with his little devices, you as the serious scout and me to balance it all out. Great idea, don´t you think?" _

_Before he could answer, Crank came back and she dragged him into the conversation and plan making. Before he said anything, their little guild was formed on the sunny day in the middle of Divinity´s Reach. _

Craywin´s smile diminished as the memory faded. He reached out and uncorked the bottle, pouring it down into two small cups. He set one before him, while he took up the other one, raising it in a toast.

"It's your favorite." he said, drinking down his own in one go. Pouring himself another cup, he continued. "I apologize for not visiting more often. I keep running away from some things. Not that you´d care, now would you? You never did blame anyone for anything that happened to you. Just another lesson to be learned, you´d always say."

He paused, downing another cup before filling it again, his expression sombre as he regarded the stone with sadness in gray eyes.

"I messed up again. Raima says that there was nothing I could do about it and Ashen seems to share the opinion, but I can´t help it. So, want to hear me out? I´ll drink with you, just like we used to... though this sake seems a bit salty. Can´t really tell why... but I won´t complain."

He raised another cup in toast before starting his story, his listener not interrupting him. In his opinion, that was quite unlike her, but there was nothing to be done about that now.

_Damn... it really is... salty..._


	9. Murky Waters arc - Part I

******What follows is Murky Waters arc, which veers slightly into fanon, as it was written before we had whole Tyria laid out. Not much, but the pirate city characters are off to visit does not exist in Tyria as it is. For the duration of the story, it's right there. A homage, one might say.**

* * *

**Murky waters I**

_Why did I accept this job again?_ Craywin wondered as he bounded up the ramp of the galleon whose name was engraved in golden letters on the upper left side of the bow. Despite snickering a bit at the name, he really hoped that the '_Virgin's grace_' will not get into too much trouble.

Reaching the deck, he stopped for a moment to look around and get his bearings. It has been a while since he was on a ship, but he still remembered where everything was, which meant he wouldn't get lost and accidentally fall over again. He had no wish to repeat that experience. Surveying the deck and the sailors running back and forth, finishing all the preparations for setting sail, he first heard and then spotted a familiar face.

Cray sighed, seeing the redhead elementalist arguing with the captain over the state of her quarters up on the stern, where the tiller is. Sometimes he wondered why'd he save her from that fire all those months ago. Not like he had too and she did try to kill him. _I guess I'm just too good for my own good._

Shaking his head slightly at the absurdity of the thought, he walked up to her just as the captain relented and promised her better quarters before retreating to a safe distance away from her ire. Which meant Cray was the one that she will chew out next, if she's in the mood for it.

She turned to look at him, her hands crossed across her considerable bust, giving him an annoyed look. Seeing as she looked like she would give him a piece of her mind, he opted to look her over in order to die as a happy man, if it came to that.

She wore a one piece dress that reached her knees and had slits on the sides, as always, though this time it was of navy blue color, with a deep v cut. It also showed off quite a bit of her back and her slim legs. Lastly she wore some sort of sandals that were bound high on her shin.

It took him only a few seconds to take in the sight, but he could still feel her gaze boring into him. To further amuse himself, he imagined the comical tick appearing on her forehead, like in those funny novels Vajnolf used to read.

"'How long are you going to stare, looking like ruffian?"' she asked, scowling slightly at him. It was supposed to be intimidating, but it only made her look cute. It nearly made him smile. Still, he took on a well learnt poker face, feigning ignorance.

"'I have no idea what you're talking about Elaine."' Craywin said, setting down the duffel bag he carried over his left shoulder, his bow and quiver attached to it, keeping the sheathed sword he carried in his right hand. He had no answer to the 'ruffian' part, as it was true. Scruffy beard covered his upper lip and chin, extending down the line of the jaw. The fresh scar he earned from Li went from his left eye, over the cheek to the jaw and he wore only a light, unbuttoned white vest, along with comfortable pants and boots. He really did look like a ruffian.

"'Well, whatever..."' she muttered, relaxing slightly, putting her hands down. She still looked irked at him. He didn't blame her, they did try to kill each other once. That tends to put a damper on any relationship. "'Not like you get to see something this fine often."'

_Ouch! Straight to my ego, eh?_ He shrugged, walking past her and leaning on the railing. He decided to make a jab of his own. "'I guess so, the girls in downtown are a level of their own after all."'

There were a few long moments of silence, while she just stared at him in shock, her cheeks flaming red as her hair.

"'Y-you..."' she muttered, fingers twitching. Then she grabbed his bag and hurled it at his face, which caught him off guard. It hit him straight on, nearly throwing him off the railing. While he was flailing around, caching the bag before it feel overboard, he heard her angry voice and the sound of her steps moving away. "'You bastard!"'

_Huh... that went well..._ He sat by the railing. Cray held his nose, ignoring the looks and little grins sailors gave him. What did catch his attention was the sound of heavy feet walking up the stairs. He opened his eyes, letting go of his nose and looked to the newcomer.

"'I don't understand you humans."' Ashen muttered, looking down on him with her one good eye. He found that unnerving.

"'What?"' he snapped at her, still irked by the fact that she followed along on this job as well. Raima insisted she went along and seeing how he had no reason to refuse, he said okay. The message Crank sent him said it could be a troublesome job, so he figured it'd best be good to have strong allies.

"'It was your fault."' she chided him, leaning on the railing beside him. "'You put her on a level below whores, after all. Yet you act like it is okay."'

"'She started it first, calling me a ruffian."' he replied, although he felt like he lost the argument to begin with. He had to admit, his comment really was uncalled for.

"'Are you a child, arguing your point with me?"' Ashen shook her head slightly, walking away.

Craywin sighed, looking up as he lit a cigarette.

The ship was still docked, but the white clouds high up on the clear sky caught his fancy. He wondered briefly what it would be like, to soar across the blue sky without a care in the world. Surely it would be... beautiful.

But as fast as it came, the thought was gone. That was not him, after all.

_I guess I'll go and apologize. _


End file.
